


A Fairytale Variation: Cinderelsa

by PullingSunflowers



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: A Fairytale Variation, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3344024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PullingSunflowers/pseuds/PullingSunflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He appears to her on her nineteenth nameday, on the eve of the Royal Ball.</p><p>“You’re a...”</p><p>“Fairy godfather. Yours—actually,” he adds.</p><p>“A snowman.” Elsa deadpans as she sweeps the courtyard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fairytale Variation: Cinderelsa

He appears to her on her nineteenth nameday, on the eve of the Royal Ball.

“You’re a...”

“Fairy godfather. Yours—actually,” he adds.

“A snowman.” Elsa deadpans as she sweeps the courtyard. The short snowman is following her around, leaving a trail of moisture in his wake. Lucky her cousins and their beloved mother was not here to witness the sight.

“My name’s Olaf, I look like a snowman.” To emphasize this, Olaf grabs his head and lifts it from his torso so that it hovers almost eye level to her. “See?”

Elsa’s jaw drops. “Yes.”

“I’m actually your fairy godfather.” With his stick hands, he rubs them together to produce a sprinkle of what looks like glimmering sand. “Watch.”

A northern gust causes the pile of minerals to blow past her feet. Her tattered dress, one that she’d kept for many years and altered to fit her growing body, begins to glow. Olaf grins, motioning his arms through the air.

“Olaf, what are you...” More dust cling to her dress. Elsa attempts to brush it off to no avail.

“I’m helping,” Olaf laughs, summoning a carriage white as a dove’s feather from the garden’s ground. “You’ve a ball to attend, Elsa.”

Slippers bloom from her muddy boots. “No,” she implores as her hair, held tight by a blue ribbon unravels. What feels like ghostly fingers begins to pin her white blonde locks together. “I do not want to attend.”

The magic stops immediately.

“What do you mean?” Olaf asks, wide mouth shaping into a frown.

“I belong here.”

Olaf shakes his elongated head. “No, Elsa, you don’t.”

“It’s not safe for anyone to be near me.” Elsa grimaces at her memories. “Stepmother was gracious enough to allow me to live with her. I’ve no wish to disobey her.”

“Then why am I here?” Olaf asks, his stick fingers curling into a ball. “I...we fairies exist to change the flow of fate.”

Elsa turns around,  leaving the snowman. “I don’t be hearing anymore of this.”

“No,” Olaf pads the ground to follow her, making as wet plop everytime he takes a step. “Elsa,” he catches the tail end of her dress, “listen. Sometimes, rarely, but it happens, things don’t go according to the grand plan. You don’t belong here with your stepmother. I’m Olaf, and I’m here to bring you to your destiny.”

“And my destiny is to attend the Royal Ball?”

Olaf shrugs. “I don’t know.” He smiles, “but I know that don’t belong here. Don’t deserve this. I’m proof of this. Whatever it is that awaits you at the ball, thats where you’re supposed to be.”

Elsa’s stiff shoulders droops. She sighs. “One condition.”

“Yes?”

“Gloves.”

* * *

The Royal Ball is everything Elsa had ever read and hear about. Grand in the most extreme measures, filled to the brim with people and suitors, men with thick moustaches and coats from the uppermost North and Southron women clad in dresses that dipped low.

Elsa arrives alone in her carriage, draw by a mouse turned horse and snowman turned chauffeur. This draws considerable attention and her lonely walk from the castle’s courtyard turns into an entourage of men, young and old, vying for her attention.

She makes it halfway through the ball before her fingers begin to tingle.

“If you’ll excuse me, Ser Mallory,” Elsa nods in a courtly manner and lets go of his light grip on her hand. “I’ve become quite fanished.”

He smiles mildy in return. “Shall I send for a drink, my lady?”

Elsa raises her hand as a form of objection. “I’ll be taking my leave,” she clarifies.

“Very well,” Ser Mallory understands her intentions immediately. He bows deeply and Elsa curtsies. “Farewell, Lady Arrendelle.”

Seeking refuge from the constant clatter, Elsa settles on a bench beneath a large oak tree in one of the castle’s many alcoves. She doesn’t understand. Was this Olaf’s intention? Part of the grand plan he spoke of? For her to attend a ball filled with bland young men and the prying perverted eyes of married lords?

“Excuse me?” A perky voice brings Elsa out of her reverie. Elsa only thinks, at least it is not a man.

“Is this seat taken?”

Elsa looks up to see a young girl, perhaps her age, dressed in a light green gown that was obviously chosen to bring out the red in her hair and turquoise in her eyes. She’s cute, Elsa thinks, eyeing the smatter of freckles.

“No,” Elsa swallows, shifting to the right of the solid stone bench to make room for the girl. “Please, take a seat.”

“I”m Anna,” the girl says, dropping down onto her seat without an ounce of grace in her descent. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady....”

“Arrendelle.” Elsa completes. “But please, Lady Arrendelle is my mother’s title. You can call me Elsa.”

“Elsa’s a pretty name.” Anna says while giving her a queer look. Not knowing how to respond, Elsa lets the silence between them stretch until the redhead girl speaks again. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

“I’ve...” Elsa smiles apologetically, “I’ve not attended many social gatherings. You could be the Princess and I would not know.”

Anna’s lips quirk.

Elsa immediately drops to her knees. “Your Majesty, I had no idea.”

Anna laughs. Elsa berates herself. The Princess was little seen, she had a habit of disappearing during these social gatherings with a Prince from some far away country but Elsa should have known from Anna’s first name.

“Please,” Anna bends low to gather up Elsa’s hands and pulls her back to the bench. “No formalities. I am intruding upon your bench after all.”

Elsa ducks her head, avoiding eye contact and hiding the blush on her cheeks. How embarrassing! “The castle, and this bench, is yours, Princess.”

Anna snorts. “When I find a husband,” she says in a low, mocking voice. “Thats what Father always says.”

“You’ve not found a reasonable fellow?” Elsa asks. “Surely a pretty girl such as yourself would have many suitors.”

The other girl raises an eyebrow. “Perhaps,” she says playfully. “However, my time to shine tonight has been so horribly stolen from me by, I quote the Duke of Riverfell, ‘a beautiful woman with hair as pale as the moon’s glow.’”

This is said with very little spite or disdain which makes Elsa confused. Anna must have recognized this as she grins and says, rather impishly, “I am talking about you, Elsa, Lady of Arrendelle.”

‘I’ve—what?” Elsa blushes again, the burning reaching the tips of her ears. “My apologies, Princess, I did not mean to overshadow you.”

Anna laughs, this time louder than the one before. She throws her head back, unabashed in her mirth. “You’ve done me a grand favor. The shine and sparkle of the Royal Ball has long faded for me. Same faces, same dances,every year.”

“Besides,” Anna adds nonchalantly, “I prefer the fairer sex.”  

If Elsa hadn’t been tomatoe red before, she is now.

“Oh,” Elsa squeaks in that high pitched tone women make when trying to hide their surprise.

“Men are great for many things. Making babies, sword fighting, leading wars.” Anna drapes an arm over the bench, turning so that she is facing Elsa. “But women are soft, gentle, a reflection of myself yet...different.”

Elsa feels lightheaded. This wasn’t a conversation she’d prepare for.

“I’m sure, Princess.”

“My, I haven’t made you uncomfortable, have I?” Anna smiles, somehow both playful and apologetic. “I was hoping to find someone...like myself.”

“Sorry,” Elsa mumbles, unable to meet the other girl’s eyes.

“It’s alright! Really! I was teasing anyways.” As if in search for some common ground, Anna offers to show Elsa around the gardens. “I won’t take you to a dark corner and have my dirty ways with you, my lady. You have my word.”

Elsa smiles at the titillating joke. Anna stands and offers Elsa her hand, they link arms as they walk. Anna talks for the majority of the tour, showing Elsa the rose garden first, the the maze, and the patch of lilies Anna had personally planted.

“I used to hide from my tutors in that tree,” Anna announces as they pass a particularly large spruce tree. “My mother would coax me down and I wouldn’t come until she offered me chocolates.”

A low noise grumbled from Anna’s direction. She quickly smiles embarrassingly.

“You’re hungry...?” Elsa observes, “but the supper is served in the ballroom.”

“It’s quite alright,” Anna says, “I’m in good company. I’ll have my handmaiden bring me a late dinner.”

Perhaps it was the years of serving her stepmother or some other driving force but Elsa becomes instinctively driven to help the Princess. “If you show me where the kitchen is...”

“Please don’t be bothered, Elsa.”

“I’m hungry as well,” Elsa coaxes. Anna’s fierce eyes stare at her until her stomach growls again. “I won’t tell a soul, Princess.”

Anna finally relents and guides her to the backdoor the kitchen staff use to transfer foodstuffs from wagons into the castle. Elsa easily slides into her comfort zone and finds their cache of fruits and desserts with little hassle. A young servant catches her as she exits and she winks playfully at him. She leaves as he is shocked, standing rooted at the ground.

What soul would believe him if he told anyone?

Elsa finds Anna at the original bench where they had first met. The girl visibly perks at the sight of Elsa carrying a platter of fruits, a plate of biscuits and a cut of beef. She sets the foods down between them and produces a stuffed handkerchief from behind her back.

“A surprise,” Elsa says.

Anna beams. “I love surprises.”

Elsa drops the present into the princess’s hands, letting it unfurl in her palms.

“Chocolates!” Anna nearly squeals, “Oh, Elsa, you’re too kind!”

“Anything for the Princess,” Elsa says, catching the girl’s good mood.

“And they’re cold too!” Elsa flushes, not realizing the effects of her powers. Anna doesn’t pay her any mind and stuffs one in her mouth. “Delicious!”

They eat in silence, listening to the music that’s leaked from the ball. Anna bobs her head and hums along to the tunes. Elsa takes the time to cherish the moment. Perhaps Olaf’s reason for bringing her to this ball was as simple as this; meeting Princess Anna. She’s a singular character, Elsa thinks, albeit a little strange in her habits.

Strangely adorable, Elsa decides. Such a fitting description of the girl. It makes Elsa a little sad she did not have such a fond friend in her life. Still, there was the matter of her powers, her life, her lower standings. It would not serve the Princess any good for her to mingle with someone of lowborne blood.

If only her parents had been alive...

Elsa grimaces.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” Elsa replies, “I believe I bit into a sour grape.”

She doesn’t know how late she stays at the ball, only that the moon was once high in the night and now dipped lower by the minute. Eventually, Anna gave a yawn and Elsa, feeling her feet ache from the slippers, led the girl back into the mostly empty ballroom. Few servants lingered about so Anna wasn’t hesitant in taking Elsa’s hand.

“Will you spoil me?” Anna asked, voice featherlight.

Feeling a queer fidelity towards the girl, Else nods.

“May I have a dance with the belle of the ball?”

Elsa blushes, blood rising to the apples of her cheeks but she agrees. This would probably be the only ball she’d ever attend, how could her decline a dance from the most interesting person she’s met all night?

Anna takes the lead despite being shorter. She’s clumsy in some of the steps but Elsa giggles every time they bump feet, which causes the redhead to smile even more. Elsa quietly sings tavern songs under her breath. She sings the ones everyone knows, the ones that talk about the purest maidens meeting their knights, the ones about finding your one true love and soon enough, Anna joins her.

She doesn't know how her stepmother manages to sneak beside her, maybe it was because Anna was warm and her head rested so peacefully on Elsa’s shoulder or the way they’ve found their rhythm and swayed mindlessly to whatever Anna was humming. Maybe it was how the girl smelled of vanilla and sunlight, lavender and the dew on a spring’s morning.

“You little prat,” her stepmother sneers and Elsa’s blood runs cold. A hand grabs her hair and jerks her backwards. Anna stumbles, losing her grip.

The clamor immediately garners the attention of the servants and guards.

“Is this how you treat your someone who took you in?” The old woman makes a disgusted noise, “How dare you—”

“What’s going on here?” Anna demands. “Let go of Lady Arrendelle, you’ve no right to treat her this way.”

“Lady Arrendelle? Lady? Princess Anna, this girl is only a step above the servants who put coals into her bed and dress you in the morning.”

Anna freezes. “Is that true, Elsa?”

Her fingers are prickling. Elsa bites her lip until she tastes blood and bitterness. Stepmother only grips her hair tighter and twists until Elsa cries out. “Tell her.”

“It’s true.”

“You lied to me?” How is it that she’s only known this girl for a night and yet feels the devastation in her chest as if they’d been friends for years?

“I didn’t mean to,” Elsa starts but it’s too late. Anna’s face has hardened. She couldn’t have been able to explain it anyways. Where would she start? Her parents? Her powers? Olaf?

“She’s a monster, your Majesty. A danger to you and those around her.”

Elsa could only half hear the old woman croaking away about her. Her chest hurt and the pangs continued to throb as Anna begins to cry. “You lied to me,” she keeps repeating.

“Anna,” Elsa reaches out but Anna draws away. Of course she would draw away. Did Elsa expect anything different?

“Don’t.” Anna stubbornly says, tears in her eyes. “Please, leave.”

* * *

Her stepmother strips her of her dress, declaring her a thief and a liar. It’s only when she returns to her quarters does she realize that she’s missing one pair of her gloves.

* * *

She won’t see Anna again because a month after the Royal Ball, the King and Queen announce her betrothal to a prince from the Roselands, a southern country. Shortly after the wedding, Anna is expected to leave her homeland and join the prince in his court.

She doesn’t expect to see Anna again.

She wants to see Anna again.

She sees Anna again.

From the attic that is her bedroom, Elsa peaks from her curtains as the royal announcer bellows Anna’s arrival. Her stepmother greets the princess and soon enough, steps are echoing into Elsa’s room.

From the knock, Elsa knows it isn’t her stepmother’s or cousins.

“I know you’re in there.” Anna says in a steely voice. Elsa doesn’t make a noise. “I wanted to return your glove.”

“You can keep it.”

Elsa hears Anna thump against the door. Then the sound of fabric rustling against wood. It conjures an image of Anna, pretty and improper Anna with her red hair and bright eyes, sitting cross legged on the floor and dirtying her dress. Elsa mirrors her from the other side.

“When I was fourteen, my parents let me attend my first ball. I became infatuated with a prince from the Southern Isles. His name was Hans—and he asked me to marry him that same night I met him. I was stupid and desperate and young so I said yes.” Anna laughs, all hollow and sending a chill down Elsa’s back. “He lied to me. Laughed at me. He was just some imposter, he's no heir, just the thirteenth brother in line for a thrown. He just wanted to prove to his brothers how much he was capable of.”

“Thats why I can’t enjoy the Royal Ball anymore. And then you--and you’re great. And you lied. Like Hans. Like everyone else, two faced people who whisper behind my back. You know what they say about me? The other nobles say I’ll never charm a prince with my clumsy manner.” Anna’s crying, she can tell. “I’m just a stupid girl so damn desperate for love.”

“You’re engaged to someone now, I’m sure he’ll love you.” Elsa just wants her to leave.

“I cried, did you know that? After you left. Not because it hurt that you lied. I cried because I’d loss you. How stupid is that, right? Stupid girl and her stupid feelings.”

Elsa brushes away stubborn hot tears. How could Anna do it? Be so open, so easy to someone who has hurt her?

“I just kept thinking you didn’t have anything to gain from meeting me. You didn’t know who I was. You’re different from Hans, you’re genuine and I want to believe that there’s someone like you.” Anna swallows. “So, I’m here to return your glove and hear your side of the story.”

Silence.

“Won’t you open up?”

Elsa buries her face into her lap, giving up on trying to stop her tears. “You won’t want to know someone like me.”

“Try me.”

“My stepmother was right, I am a monster.”

“Go ahead, make me run scared then.”

Elsa’s bare hand falls to the floor. It takes a finger’s touch to make the ice materialize and creep from one side of the door to the other. Anna gasps.

Silence.

“I’m still here, you know.” A beat. “Your stepmother told me you’re a murderer. Is that true too?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember. There was an accident at sea. We survived the storm and crash but it was cold. So cold. My parents held me. They fell asleep and everyone said they were frozen. Ice, solid ice when we washed ashore. I was the only one alive. My stepmother—she’s a distant relative actually—she was the only one who took me in for whatever was left of my inheritance.”

Elsa wants believe that her powers saved her. But what if....?

“You don’t scare me.” Anna says, so defiant.

“What if I hurt you? What if I....” Elsa can't finish her sentence.

“You won’t.” Elsa’s never heard such confidence from Anna’s voice.

“Prove it.”

“Okay.”

The floor beside her began to crackle, the wood sparking into embers. Elsa audibly drew a breath.

“Funny, right? Sounds like something from a fairytale. Maybe fate does exist.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I intended this to be a short 1K fic and it got out of hand. Can't wait for Frozen Fever. This was intended to be a chapter but do let me know if this feels wrapped up enough or if it can use another chapter.


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